


safe house

by westernredcedar



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Domestic, Ficlet, Just Ian and Mickey trying to work things out, M/M, Mickey hates cops, Season11/ep1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27987687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westernredcedar/pseuds/westernredcedar
Summary: Carl is becoming a cop. Mickey hates it, hates everything about it, wants to bash his hand into the wall he hates it so much.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 14
Kudos: 126





	safe house

**Author's Note:**

> Say what you will about money and monogamy in episode 1, to me the most OOC moment of the entire thing was Mickey being both happy and supportive of Carl's plan to become a cop. I mean...what? This little ficlet wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it.  
> I shall now return to my previously scheduled fluffy/angsty holiday writing! *hugs*

*

“You think he’s really gonna do that shit?” Mickey pulls another shirt out of the tangled pile of laundry on their bed and starts to fold it. He’s been fighting a queasy ache in his gut all evening and he’s fucking sick of it.

“What?” Ian’s rolling some of Mickey’s socks and doesn’t even look over.

“Carl. You know,” Mickey has to pause before he can even say it out loud. “Being a cop.”

Ian pauses in his folding and looks over at Mickey. “That bug you?”

“I don’t know, man.” 

Mickey hates it, hates everything about it, wants to bash his hand into the wall he hates it so much.

“Worried he’s gonna start snitching? Turn into fucking Sammi?” Ian says it in a light tone, but Mickey hears beneath the teasing that he’s actually asking. He’s listening.

“Fuck. Maybe.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. Oh.”

Ian sits down on the edge of the bed and reaches out to trail his fingers along the back of Mickey’s hand. “We don’t have any shit to hide anymore, right?”

Mickey shrugs. “Just don’t like having to think about it all the fucking time, you know.”

Ian scrunches up his face in concern. “What do you mean?”

Mickey sighs. What the fuck _does_ he mean? “My life, it's got shit in it, right? Last I checked, Iggy’s got five warrants. I just…” 

When Mickey pauses, Ian shifts his hand to lace his fingers with Mickey’s. Mickey grabs on. 

“I just don’t want to have to hide shit here.” He’s never had to pretend or lie or hide anything at the Gallagher house. Never. 

“I don’t think Carl will be like that, Mick,” Ian says. 

Mickey shakes his head. “Nah, he’s gonna have to be. Street rat kid with a juvie record trying to impress those big shot, greasy-necked assholes? He’s gonna have to flip on all of us, Ian.”

Ian lets go of Mickey’s hand and doesn’t say anything more. Mickey picks up another shirt to fold, his heart hammering. 

“Nothing against Carl. But, fuck, I never hid anything from that kid and neither did you. Wanna smoke a blunt on your porch now? Pick up some questionable goods from Tim or Shawn out of the back of their van? Help Kev with the grow operation?”

Mickey can see Ian’s wheels turning. “You don’t trust him,” he says at last.

“I don’t trust cops.” That’s it, in the end. And having a cop sitting at the other end of the sofa, trying to casually shoot the shit with him every night? Mickey’s chest hurts.

“What do you want me to say, Mick? We can’t just stop seeing Carl.”

That’s the worst part, Mickey realizes. He’s always had a soft spot for Carl, a little fuck-up after his own heart. And he knows Ian loves the asshole.

“I’m sorry I fucked up,” Mickey says. 

“‘Bout what?” Ian asks, his brows pulled tight.

“With our cash.” He’s felt like crap for days. “Having our own place to live would be good. I want that.” Just somewhere where he doesn’t have to watch his back. That’s all he’s ever wanted. If it’s not gonna be the Gallagher house anymore, at least it can be somewhere safe for him and Ian.

“Okay,” Ian says, eyes piercing. “So we start saving now. No more spending on stupid shit.”

Mickey nods, the ache in his chest easing a little.

“I don’t know what to say about Carl, though,” Ian continues. Then, with a crooked little grin, he adds, “On the bright side, maybe he’ll turn out to be a dirty cop?” He reaches out for Mickey’s belt loops and hauls himself up and right into Mickey’s personal space, hip to hip. “Actually, this is Carl. I'm pretty sure he’s definitely gonna be a dirty cop.”

Mickey drops a pair of shorts back on the bed and lets his nervous hands grip onto Ian’s waist. “That’s not as reassuring as you think.”

Ian sniffs a little laugh, but then his expression grows serious again. “What do you want to do?”

“Watch our backs around him. Save money." Mickey rubs his thumbs in circles against Ian’s hip bones and shrugs. "Wipe his brain so that he can’t remember all the shit he has on me. And on you.”

Ian leans down and presses a soft kiss against Mickey’s lips. “Don’t have my brain wiping technology available today.”

Mickey leans up for another kiss. “Well get the fuck on it, Gallagher. What’s the point of Lip anyway if he’s not inventing some sort of Star Trek level shit to help us.”

Ian shoves him and rolls his eyes, so Mickey throws a pile of Ian’s carefully folded t-shirts right into his face to release the last of the tension filling his chest. As Ian fondly, aggressively tackles Mickey onto the bed, the ache is gone for the moment, but not forgotten.

*


End file.
